


Cascade

by orphan_account



Series: When I'm Falling I'm At Peace [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: AU, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blood, Insecurity, Kink Meme, M/M, Mansion Fic, Mild Gore, Wingfic, X-Men First Class Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-03-16
Packaged: 2017-11-01 14:17:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Done for this prompt on the x-men_firstkink kink meme on livejournal: </p>
<p>Charles has a latent secondary mutation that only starts to manifest after he first augments his powers with Cerebro. Charles is horrified that the change is physical and does his best to hide his slowly metamorphosing body and cuts down significantly on his Cerebro time. While Erik is happy about that aspect, because he can tell Cerebro is also starting to take a toll on Charles' health, he can't help but notice the other man is hiding something from him.</p>
<p>After several attempts, Erik finally corners Charles and asks him to tell Erik the truth, reminding Charles that he already knows all of Erik's secrets and it's only FairPlay for Charles to tell him the truth now. Charles gives in and lets Erik see the changes he's been hiding with clothes/his telepathy, clearly expecting rejection. Instead, Erik is more turned on than hes ever been in his life. Charles was already beautiful, but a visible mutation just makes him irresistible to Erik.</p>
<p>Up to the writer whether the physical mutation is Charles turning into a faun (have we had that yet?) or grows wings or has his skin turn into astral armor or etc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little warning that this story has a very ambiguous ending that isn't really an ending at all.

~

 

The first time Charles uses Cerebro it feels like flying. Like somehow he has cut all his ties to the ground and rises up. It feels as if he has left the earth to touch the  
stars.

Thousands, millions, billions of minds shining like tiny pinpricks of light flickering in the black planes of space. He soars among them, through them, and for the first time since Charles can remember his power, his mind, is totally and utterly free.

When he finally comes back down to rest - curling and folding the breadth of his consciousness back into it’s tiny space inside his head – he opens his eyes. 

There is his sister, her blonde waves shining under the artificial light as always. There is Hank, his nervous excitement spilling through as ever it has. And there is Erik looking on at Charles with grey-green eyes that are as penetrating as they were that first moment in the water.

But there is something different too. In the rush of adrenalin, the high of Cerebro that leaves him laughing and joyous, he almost misses it. The way Erik’s eyes now seem to reflect a little brighter as they stare, how Raven’s skin glows warmly on her cheeks and hands.

Somehow, in the space of mere minutes, Charles feels almost as if some tiny aspect of the universe has shifted, leaving everything just a shade more intense.

It is a strange feeling, but as Charles contemplates the sheer exultant flight that was Cerebro, he knows it was worth it.

 

~

 

Despite Erik’s lighthearted jibes otherwise, Charles has very little time for vanity as they trek across America in search of young mutant minds. He is merely clean and conscientious. A cursory shave in the morning, a cleansing shower at night, a quick change of clothes at each place they stop.

He supposes it is this small sense of urgency, of being at the edge of something so spectacular that makes him hurry through these tasks. How can one stop to admire oneself in the mirror when such potential, so many brightly flickering lives call him on?

So Erik’s gruffly spoken compliment on Charles’s new physique over a glass of whisky in the Midwest takes him by surprise. He tries to look back at Erik and divine the meaning of such a statement but Erik merely looks away to the right of the bar. Charles can feel the distinct sense of gruff embarrassment against his shields and he decides to drop the matter.

Still, after a curious lingering look in the mirror that night, Charles can see what Erik means. Somehow without his noticing, he has lost the roundness that has always characterized the planes of his body.

He is slimmer, leaner, he supposes. His clothes lie flatter on his body and his cheekbones are just the slightest bit more prominent in his face. 

Something about his skin, too, is subtly smoother. Still perfectly pale, despite his time under the American sun.

The entire effect makes him look… younger. Almost like he did when he first moved to Oxford, so happy to be free of Westchester and his distant family. He had been almost handsome then, and although the lines around his eyes are a little deeper now, he seems to have reclaimed some of that old freshness that used to animate his every action.

Charles regards his reflection one last time before stepping out into their joint hotel with the ghost of a smile. 

He catches Erik watching him as he lays out his clothes for the morning. There is a small warmth in that gaze that makes Charles think that perhaps this new leaner look is something he can live with.

 

~


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your wonderful comments! I'm afraid I'm terrible about being online to respond to them, but I read and appreciate all of them. :)

~

 

Charles uses Cerebro as an escape right up until their very last week with the CIA.

He knows it leaves him tired, and he knows that perhaps he shouldn’t use it to get away, but he does.

Being a telepath, Charles has always had to have impeccable control. He mastered the use of mental shielding very young and he has barely released them since.

Being in Cerebro means dropping that entire pretense. Charles can push and expand and stretch like he has never before dared.

It is wonderful.

So in the aftermath of the attack on the CIA compound and Charles has offered them all his childhood home, he can’t help but casually suggest to Hank a few improvements in Cerebro’s design.

The comments have the intended effect. Hank almost immediately asks Charles’s permission to build a new model on the grounds and Charles grants it. 

Charles is met with a mix of disapproval and amusement at his stubbornness from Erik. He grumbles at the very mention of Cerebro and sulks when he is asked to help with its construction.

Charles knows the truth of it, though. Erik is being difficult because he is concerned about Charles’s wellbeing and he finds it rather sweet.

Charles points this out mildly during one of their chess sessions and Erik ducks his head. The same gruff embarrassment rolls off of him in waves along with a hint of… affection.

It’s stunning. Strong, powerful, razorblade Erik sits before him coloured by care and affection. His cheeks are a little flushed, and when he looks up his eyes dance as he reaches over to take Charles’s bishop.

Charles looses the game spectacularly that night, but can’t bring himself to care.

 

~

 

It is a week after Charles begins Cerebro again that he finds the lines of bruises down his back.

At first he can’t believe what he is seeing. The lines are so straight, so methodical on the inside of his shoulder blades. He reaches up and back to find that they are tender to the touch. 

They are unlike any normal injury or illness Charles has ever seen. The black lines fill him with some strange mix of apprehension and the dawning realization that perhaps his small shift in the universe was actually the beginning of a larger shift in himself.

He begins to make sure the doors of his bedroom are locked before changing. Cardigans layer over shirts for protection. In the evenings he stops in the library and makes a secret habit of pouring through medicinal journals.

He finds nothing.

The bruises get worse. 

The skin becomes more tender and weak. They hurt nearly too much to touch, but as Charles looks at them in the mirror, he thinks he can almost perceive something… beneath the purpling skin.

He doesn’t think that any of the others have noticed yet, but Charles has had to become incredibly careful about sitting down and brushing into things. He keeps a steady awareness around his back and adopts a stricter posture, sitting so that the backs of chairs only barely brush his back. Small interactions become a dangerous dance with making sure no one approaches him unawares. With the smallest contact sending waves of pain through his spine, an arm flung around his shoulders does not bare thinking about.

He is painstakingly careful and his routines to avoid the touch of anything heavier than a shirt and cardigan stretch ever longer.

Right now that is all he thinks he can stand.

 

~


	3. Chapter 3

~

 

Charles continues to use Cerebro. He finds its influence a calming relief from the aching soreness that has settled on his back and shoulders.

 

He knows Erik is getting seriously concerned now, as Charles is spending more time in Cerebro leaving him exhausted. He has been trying to get Charles alone so he can discuss it for several days now. Each time, Charles begs off to continue training the children or handling the manor. His excuses are true enough, as there is always much to be dealt with, but it doesn’t leave him any less guilty as he spends less and less time with the metal bender.

 

It doesn’t help that he can sense Erik’s frustration too. 

 

He doesn’t mean to pry, but lately it’s been as if all Charles’s senses have been sharpened, and he picks up Erik’s emotions with particular ease. Or that’s what he tells himself.

 

As Charles brushes him off in the library, he can feel that Erik is now barely restraining himself from pulling Charles round and demanding to know what has changed. Why Charles can’t face Erik anymore, why their chess matches have slowly dwindled off. Why Charles doesn’t continue his friendly touches and bright smile like before. Why Charles is hiding from Erik. Why Erik isn’t good enough for Charles.

 

Oh.

 

No! No, how could he ever think that? Not when Charles is the one-

 

“Charles.” 

 

His voice is quiet, restrained. His name falls softly in the space between them and Charles can't help but fall with it.

 

When what once Charles would have begged to hear from Erik (still begs, still so horribly selfish) comes with so much regret and sadness that Charles has caused.

 

He turns around, blue eyes shining with unshed tears. This can’t go on. He has to tell him the truth. He can’t go on pretending that this change isn’t happening to him.

 

He begins to reach out to Erik, just to touch him again like he hasn’t touched him in weeks and more. Charles wants to touch that strong jaw line and gentle those piercing eyes.

 

He extends, fingers trembling slightly with the seriousness of the moment.

 

“Erik, I-” but the muscles of his arms twitch. A shudder runs through him and the muscles convulse. The air is rent with the terrible sound of ripping skin.There is a delayed moment. It seems like everything is moving slower than it should and Charles watches as Erik’s eyes widen in shock.

 

No. No. NO-

 

Charles has only that moment to project his apologies before he freezes Erik, freezes the manor and it’s grounds, and every living thing inside it.

 

He freezes everything so that in the next moment when the agony hits, his scream will fall on deaf ears.

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt & lj fill can be found here: http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/7736.html?thread=14287672#t14287672


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is quite a quick chapter, I'm afraid. But we are now caught up to the updates on livejournal and chapter 5 is fairly well on its way!
> 
> What is this productiveness and where did it come from?
> 
> Anyway, along with chapter 5 I am thinking about posting a little companion piece about Charles's telepathy and his relationship with Raven. It was originally going to be part of the chapter, but I think the pacing is just too different and it doesn't really fit in where I want it to. But I think it's interesting character development and kind of relates to some of the insecurities Charles comes up against in Cascade, so I am thinking about posting it as a little extra in a series.
> 
> Thoughts?

~

 

Charles stumbles, staggers, and even sometimes crawls his way back to his room.

 

His hands leave red smears on the walls and carpet where he touches them.

 

The logical part of his mind knows that hiding will do him no good. That Erik will only have to follow the trail of handprints up to his room when he is unfrozen. Perhaps he will even be able to sense the iron in Charles’s spilled blood.

 

Charles knows that the lock will do him no good either. It will part beneath Erik’s hands like butter, but he does fumble to lock it before finally laying down on his bed. His shirt lies in a ruined heap on the ground where he has ripped off its painful confines.

 

A wave of pain extends over his torso as he shifts it slightly and Charles groans.

 

He can’t keep this up much longer. Sounds are beginning to sound muffled in his ears and his vision has started to blur around the edges. Still, he has to know. He needs to see this transformation that he can feel in every pain-sensing nerve of his body.

 

Very slowly, Charles begins to twist his head. He grits his teeth and keeps turning despite the burning ache it produces.

 

He keeps turning until he can see over his shoulder and onto the ruined mess of his back.

 

Blood nearly entirely covers Charles’s back striking a ghastly contrast where it meets with pale skin. Strips of skin hang, half torn from where they used cover muscle and flesh. But in the center of the carnage, where the lines of bruises used to be, there are two dark masses protruding from his back. Compressed and matted in blood, they are nearly unrecognizable. But Charles knows what they are the same way he knows his legs, his arms, and his hands. He can feel the new muscles longing to be stretch out and upwards.

 

He knows what they are, but he cannot believe it even as the darkness closes around him. Why him? Why now, after so long? The question’s run in circles in his head even as his eyes close and his mind drifts upward.

 

~

_  
_

_There is a man running through the house. His emotions crash and splinter brightly in his mind. There is fear, and anger, and concern. There is love, affection, and a fierce protectiveness. And there is blood, so much blood._

_  
_

_Desperation._

_  
_

_Pounding steps._

_  
_

_There is a door and a lock that melts to the ground._

_  
_

_There is a room, a bed, and a prone form covered in dark congealing blood._

_  
_

_There is a name shouted, and the voice that utters it sounds so scared, so lost._

_  
_

_There are hands that cradle a face with shocking tenderness and there is the breath of a whisper that sounds like a prayer._

_  
_

_Please._

_  
_

_I love you._

_  
_

_Come back to me._

 

~


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is short, I know! This is the part of chapter five that isn't giving me endless issues, so I decided to post this and leave the other bit for chapter six.

~

 

When Charles wakes he feels dizzy and slightly sick. He can feel he is in his bed with the blankets piled around his waist. It’s warm, unnaturally comfortable, and Charles doesn’t want to break the spell. So he lays there, eyes closed and ignoring the nausea until it floats away.

 

Charles is aware of several warm presences nearby, but his mind has started to feel heavy with sleep and he can’t be bothered to investigate.

 

Warmth closes around Charles once more and he falls asleep.

 

He doesn’t wake for five more days. His eyes don’t open, muscles don’t flex, skin doesn’t stretch all the time he is asleep. His mind, however, jumps through space and time.

 

~

 

He is small, running through the house on silent feet. He doesn’t dare make a sound.

 

Children should be seen and not heard.

 

He reaches the attics, a set of unused storage rooms at the top of the house, a place where Kurt or Cain will never think to look for him.

 

Charles winds his small body between the ghostly furniture covered in white sheets until he reaches the window. The view from up here is spectacular. It spreads over the manor grounds until the horizon, with all the trees covered in the pale flowers and green buds of spring.

 

He reaches over to one white sheet next to the window and pulls it off gently. Underneath there is a beautiful grand piano. Despite it’s age, it is in perfect condition. He has kept it that way for years, quietly composing by the high window.

 

The notes trill softly…

 

~

 

His bones stretch. They burn, shifting in his body. He can’t wake, can’t open his eyes beneath the weight of their fire.

 

The protrusions on his back extend. They frame his body in a halo of white. He stretches them out as far as they will go from tip to tip. They are bright and strong. 

 

He imagines himself at the window of his attic, the glass pane pried ajar. The grounds stretch out beneath him and a light breeze brushes his face. His muscles tense.

 

He jumps.

 

~

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt & lj fill can be found here: http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/7736.html?thread=14287672#t14287672


End file.
